


This heart of mine (goes thump thump)

by Philyra



Series: Get ready for it [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Idiots in Love, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 06:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12905880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philyra/pseuds/Philyra
Summary: Skye bids on Trip for a charity date. It's just a favor for a friend, right?Right.





	This heart of mine (goes thump thump)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/gifts).



“I think that’s all the data we need today. Skye? How’s it looking over there?”

She leans out over the boards, flashing a thumbs up. “Numbers are nice, Jane. Program’s processing now, but I’ll need to get back to the office to really get some juice out of them.”

“That was great!” The goalie skates over and lifts her mask, revealing bright blue eyes, a flushed and beaming face, and sweaty, matted blonde hair. “Bruce really wasn’t kidding when he said that you guys have all the toys. I’m really glad we’re finally getting to work together.” Sharon sighs ruefully. “Injuries suck.”

Skye has to suppress her smile as Jane scoots back across the ice, still wobbly despite all the lessons Thor’s given her. “Hey, but you’re back and I bet the Commandos are super happy about that. Do you think you’ll be getting the start soon?” As Mike’s friend, she’s been front row center to his every freakout concerning Sharon’s injury. He’s really taken mother hen-ing to new heights, with Maria and now Sharon as rookies.

“I don’t know. I’m crossing all my fingers and toes. It depends on what Bruce and Coach Koenig want.” Skye knows that she’s not that much older than Sharon, but it’s easy to see her youth in some of the uncertainty reflected in her eyes. While there’s no doubt that she possesses her aunt’s grit and steel, it needs some time to solidify.

Jane glances up from the screen of the Toughbook. “Don’t worry, we’ll help get you there. The stuff we took today is just to establish a baseline. We’ll start adding more realistic, game-like scenarios and whatever we find, Bruce will use in his training.” She hands Skye a plastic case. “Since I got the pucks last time, it’s your turn. I’ve got the sensors.”

“Ugh. Why. You know me and ice don’t get along.” Still, she takes the case and steps gingerly out onto the smooth and glossy surface, sighing with relief when her feet don’t slide out from beneath her. She really can’t laugh at Jane when her relationship with rinks is even worse.

“I can help if you want,” Sharon laughs, skating out to the net and using her stick to corral the pucks. “So Jane said these work kind of like GPS. What does that mean?”

            Skye lights up. She loves talking about how the technology works. “So, GPS works because satellites use those signals to find out where you are. The signal places you within a specific grid system. Most countries have their own and there are a few international grid systems. With the Stark tech, we basically turn the rink into its own little grid system, or country, and the pucks communicate with the sensors that Jane’s taking down to determine where they are.” She’s careful when she puts the pucks back into the case, even though they take a lot of abuse at the hands of hockey players. “The thing is, maps usually work in two dimensions, getting someone from Point A to Point B. What we really want for you guys are the trajectories, so we have to make sure our grid system works for X, Y, and Z.”

Sharon nods. “Because the starting and ending points of the pucks don’t matter as much as the line that connects them.”

“Exactly!” Skye beams, excited because she actually gets it. She’s come across her fair share of athletes who don’t really care what the technology does as long as it helps their game. The reason why she gets along so well with Mike is because he’s just as enthusiastic about the actual technology. Maybe Sharon’s the same. “You’re smart. I like you, you can stay.”

She snorts, but it’s good-natured. “Awesome. Tell Fury that the next time you see him.”

“Oh, you bet I will.”

“So, are you going to the Knights’ charity date auction tonight?” Sharon asks as they make their way back to the bench and into the tunnel.

“I wouldn’t miss it!” Even if she wasn’t going to be there for moral support, she’d be there for the sheer hilarity of watching New York’s elite bid over chances to go on “dates” with the Knights. “It’s going to be great.”

Sharon makes an envious noise as she heads over to her stall, shucking off her gear. “If I wasn’t going to be on a plane with the team, I’d be there.” She grins over her shoulder. “Trip told me that you’d be bidding for him.”

There’s something vaguely mischievous in the curve of her smile and – oh. “Oh right, your families are really close, aren’t they? I’m bidding for him because he asked, but I don’t expect to win or anything.” Tony pays them pretty generously – generously enough to navigate the hell that is New York City rental prices – but not _that_ well.

“Yeah, his gramps kind of mentored Aunt Peggy. They’re all based in the Boston area too, so we basically grew up together.” She pauses as if she’s going to say something else, then shrugs and turns to Jane. “How about you, Jane? Are you going to bid for Thor?”

“Huh? Oh, the charity thing.” She sets down the sensor case none too lightly. It always makes Skye wince, but then again Jane builds everything to survive hockey wear and tear. Too bad she doesn’t build their computers. The whole reason why they use Toughbooks now is because the first laptop Skye used became a sacrifice to the hockey gods.

_“Heads up!”_

_She ducked, instinctively using the laptop to cover her face. There was a jolt and crunch, and she slowly lowered the equipment, her mouth dropping open. “Oh hell. Looks like we’re not collecting data today, Janey.”_

_“Why didn’t you just duck behind the boards? That’s what they do!” Jane pursed her lips and shook her head, more annoyed at the laptop’s failure than anything else._

_"Hey, fight or flight is a weird response, okay?”_

_“Are you two all right? I’m so sorry, I didn’t account for the bounce.” The player skating towards them is one Skye’s never met before, younger than Thor or Mike. Dark skin, laughing eyes, and a mouth made for smiling, even if the corners are currently turned down in concern._

_She can’t help but smile, reassuring. “No harm done, except maybe to the laptop.” She’ll probably take it home and repair it for kicks. An ex of hers wondered why she even bothered, but Skye was of the opinion that if you worked the technology, you damn well should know how to fix it, too._

_“I’m sorry, can I pay for it?”_

_Jane waved a hand. “We work for Stark, he can afford to replace this. I don’t know why we’re not taking Toughbooks into the field, anyway. I’ll bring it up with him later.”_

_“Are you sure? I’m Trip, by the way.” It might have been Skye’s imagination, but it seemed like his handshake lingered a little bit. Maybe he was checking to make sure he hadn’t actually hit her._

_“I’m Skye, that’s Jane. You’ll be seeing us around every once in a while, we work with Bruce and the goalie.”_

_His grin flashed and yeah, it was exactly as pretty as she thought it would be. “I look forward to it. I’ll try not to break the next laptop.”_

_“See that you do,” she laughed._

“No, I go on dates with him all the time,” Jane continues, breaking Skye’s reverie. “He’s hoping for a sweet old lady, since they’re usually the ones fawning over him.”

The mental image of a bunch of little old ladies haggling over a beaming Thor is absolutely freaking adorable. “Yeah, I would give just about anything to see that.”

Jane winks. “Me too.” She pats the Toughbook case affectionately, like it’s her favorite pet. “Now let’s get this data to the office and see what we can do! It was nice to meet you, Sharon, I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” The younger woman’s eyes are sparkling as she turns to Skye. “Nice to finally meet you too, Skye.”

“Finally?”

Her grin stretches even wider, if that’s possible. “Trip’s mentioned you a few times. Make sure to bid for him, he’ll really appreciate it.”

“Of course I will.” The exchange leaves her scratching her head as she follows Jane out. It’s not often that she’s made to feel like she’s missed something, but… “That was weird, right? I felt like that was weird.”

“What was weird?”

 “Sharon. When she mentioned the charity thing and Trip.”

Jane flaps a hand in the air, her mind clearly occupied with the data. “Maybe she’s just bummed that she won’t be able to be there to support him.”

Skye ponders that for a moment, then shrugs. It’s as good an explanation as any, and the appeal of digging into Sharon’s data overrides any lingering weirdness.

* * *

Someone – Skye suspects it’s Pepper, because who else could pull this off – has a sense of humor because the charity date auction takes place at Sotheby’s. It’s a place so far removed from her daily life that she can feel her skin prickle with discomfort the moment she steps inside. Sure, she works for Tony Stark and with athletes who make hideous amounts of money, but this scene is like something out of _Gossip Girl_ and it has her both terrified and fascinated by turns.

Thankfully, the first person she spots is her favorite person in the Knights’ organization. “Mike!” she calls out, hurrying forward.

“Skye!” He enfolds her in a massive hug. “Good, now that you’re here we can go and sample some of these appetizers and you can keep me from mingling for a little while.”

“I’m surprised I didn’t find you hiding in the drapes,” she teases. He’s not as gregarious as most of his teammates, but people are still drawn to his quiet intensity. One of the reasons why they clicked so quickly was because he was determined to find out everything about the Stark goalie tech and how it could quantify, analyze, and improve his performance.

“Close,” he admits with a small smile. “Another few minutes and I would have tried.”

“So why did you agree to this? I would have thought that spending one-on-one time with someone who’s paid for the privilege would be torture for you.”

Mike shrugs. “It helps that we picked the activities. Darcy and the TV crew are part of the deal as well, so we won’t be alone.”

It’s a brilliant idea, probably Christine’s. The woman’s a terrier when it comes to protecting the organization. “Chaperones, got it.”

“Never go anywhere without them,” he chuckles.

“So what’s your charity date?”

“A game of sled hockey with some veterans. We played with them last year for a charity game and I’ve kept in touch with some of the guys. They’re great, I don’t get to see them very often, and it should be fun.” Someone calls his name and he raises a hand in greeting, but keeps steering her towards the food. “Why, are you going to bid for it?”

If she had unlimited funds like some of the other attendees, she would. “That sounds like so much fun, but you should just keep a spot open for me in the future.” Sled hockey sounds way more doable than actual hockey, though she’s probably kidding herself on that front. “I’ve already promised to bid for Trip.“

He guffaws loudly, stacking a plate high with mini quiches. “Now how could I forget about Trip? Don’t worry, I’ll reserve a spot for you next time.” He hands her a plate and directs her towards pastries because he knows her weakness too well.

Inside the hall, tables are set up rather than the usual rows of chairs, making everything feel a bit cozier and less clinical. The décor is pure Knights: black tablecloths and floral centerpieces in blue, red, and white.

“Ahem.” Darcy taps the microphone. “If I could have the team onstage, we can get started with tonight’s event with a word from the leader of this fantastic organization, Ms. Pepper Potts.”

Darcy as the emcee is another stroke of genius on Pepper’s part. Her lighthearted jokes put the guys at ease, while her gregariousness and wry anecdotes keep the crowd entertained. The team’s names are pulled from a hat to determine bidding order and hilariously enough, Steve is the first to go, with a street art walking tour.

“That is so clever,” Skye murmurs to Alicia as the bids begin to fly. She’d had to scramble for the first table with a friendly face, and luckily Alicia Masters is one of the friendliest people around. Her table also happens to be right next to the stage, in front of Darcy’s podium. “It definitely takes the anxiety out of thinking they’re saving the most desirable players for last, or something.”

“I would not expect anything less of Pepper,” she agrees. “She’s so very protective of her players, and rightfully so.”

“So are you bidding for Ben?”

Alicia reaches for her wine, her aim unerring. “Me? Heavens no. Ben’s fans are lovely, so who am I to take valuable time with him away? Besides, he has a beer brewing session lined up and that is not my idea of fun. I love beer, but I’m not terribly interested in how it’s made.” She pats Skye’s knee. “I’ve heard that you’re bidding, though.”

“What, has he told everyone?” How baffling. It’s a favor to Trip, but if he’s worried about no one bidding on him there’s pretty much nothing to be worried about. He might not have the same level of popularity as Steve or Thor or Maria, but he’s plenty popular on his own. She’s seen plenty of TRIPLETT jerseys around the city.

Alicia’s smile seems oddly familiar as she demurs, saying something vague about hearing it from Ben. Skye ponders it while Sam’s falconry session and Nat’s Six Flags trip come and go. Tony and Pepper wander by briefly, and Tony deposits an entire bottle of champagne on the table as they go, completely ignoring Skye’s protests. “I already spoil myself and Pep doesn’t let me spoil her, so who else does that leave?” he reasons.

“Thanks, Tony!” Alicia chirrups brightly. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she murmurs to Skye.

“Ooooh, Tony bought you champagne as well?” Jemma plops down at the table, Fitz following shortly after clutching a familiar bottle. “I suggest pooling our resources.”

Skye smirks. “Drumming up the courage to bid for Mack?”

Both Fitz and Jemma go tomato-red. Their crush on Mack is not only visible from space, it’s entirely reciprocated. The looks across the locker room, the shy flirting, the way it takes them much longer to show him how to use his equipment (sadly _not_ a euphemism) …it’s a budding romance and everyone on the team and in Stark Hockey has been curious to see how it’s going to turn out. “The pit crew experience sounds like a lot of fun,” Fitz mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“No doubt,” she agrees blandly. It definitely sounded better than actually driving a car around a race circuit, but that was probably the geeky side of her talking. She prefers knowing how things work, how to take them apart, and how to make them better. Sometimes that whole process is more satisfying than dealing with the finished product at the end. “All the better since it would be the three of you. You’re pooling for your bid, right?”

“Well, yes,” Fitz stammers. “You’re bidding for Trip!”

“Well, _yes_ ,” she parrots. “Because he asked me to.” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jemma roll _her_ eyes and lean over to whisper something in Alicia’s ear. The two of them are sporting that same, strange smile…the one Sharon had earlier in the day.

Skye’s starting to feel like she’s the butt of some elaborate joke but she just met Sharon today, so it doesn’t make sense for the goalie to have it in for her. Maybe she’s just imagining things.

“And our next player on the auction block is Antoine Triplett!” Darcy declares, waving around a tiny sliver of paper. “Antoine is an immensely talented left-winger, most often found playing with Maria and Lance. He’s from Boston, Massachusetts, his favorite food is soul food, specifically his nana’s mac and cheese, and his favorite color is green.” Trip waves as he goes to stand beside Darcy, grinning brightly at the round of enthusiastic applause and a smattering of whistles. “If you win the date with Trip, be prepared to be creative, because he’s selected a photography walking tour of New York, neighborhood to be specified. Now, the bidding will start at $100, do I have any takers?”

Skye immediately raises her paddle, utterly gleeful that Pepper has gone for the full auction experience and all the bidders have paddles. She’s really glad that they aren’t going for the twitch-and-you-bid way of auctioning. It also probably makes things easier for Darcy, too, who already has to deal with looking at a dimly lit audience.

“I have $100 from the table in front!” Darcy announces. Trip, following Darcy’s gesture, beams as he catches Skye’s eye and sends her a thumbs-up.

“$200!” calls a woman a few tables over, raising her paddle as well. Skye leans over, curious. There’s a gaggle of women sitting there, all of them oozing high class and sophistication. A pair of their shoes alone probably cost the same as her monthly rent, and that doesn’t even factor in their designer dresses and high end jewelry. All of them are perfectly coiffed, manicured, and made up

There for the money? Skye wonders. Or the bragging rights for saying that she went on a date with a hockey player? There was no way to know for sure, and she doesn’t feel right judging someone without knowing them at all. Still, she’s worked in hockey long enough to know that there are definitely those who won’t hesitate to snatch up _any_ hockey player, so long as they’re a hockey player.

In any case, she made a promise and she’s going to see that out as much as she’s able. “$250!” she says, raising her paddle again.

“$250,” Darcy repeats, looking oddly relieved. “Can I interest anyone in $275?” Someone in the back raises their paddle. “$275 in the back, how about $300? This is for charity, everyone!”

Because Skye is watching the socialite, she sees her very visible scoff, and the paddle goes up. “$400.”

Gulp. They’re starting to tread into very dangerous territory here. The highest she can go and not be skint for the rest of the month is probably $450, $500 if she really budgets well. Trip’s her friend, but he can’t expect her to follow through, can he? If everyone else is truly serious, though, the least she can do is drive the price up that much, and get more for charity. Still, she doesn’t exactly relish abandoning him to that woman…

“$450,” Skye says decisively, and Jemma clutches her arm with a small squeal. Fitz pats her shoulder, but she barely registers any of it, looking over at Trip. Surprisingly enough, he’s looking back at her and she shrugs a little bit with her most rueful expression, trying to convey to him that this is as far as she can go.

His brow creases, faintly disappointed but understanding, and nods a little bit.

“Oh no,” Jemma whispers as the socialite bids for $500. “Skye, she looks absolutely horrid. Should Fitz and I-?”

“Oh hell no, you two have your own auction to worry about.” Skye slumps back in her seat a little – the bidding has gone to $550 because of the bidder in the back. Trip’s slouching a little now, beginning to look a little hunted. “It’s not that I don’t want to keep bidding, because I completely agree. I just can’t afford it.”

“Oh yes you can.” She nearly jumps out of her chair as Tony materializes behind her, crouching down on his haunches. “Keep bidding, Skye. Don’t worry about the difference, I’ll spot it for you.”

“What? Why?” she splutters. Honestly, he’s her boss and sometimes she feels like she’ll never understand him. Even if they bond over the finer points of hockey tech and programming.

He smirks and adjusts his glasses. “That woman over there and her group of friends? Pepper knows them and really doesn’t like them. The one bidding against you is the only one gung ho enough to see a bid through to the end and the rest of them are just here for the thrill of it.” Skye nods, remembering some bids coming out of that table for Steve and Sam. “She told me to come over here and tell you to keep bidding, so do it. Like I said, I’ll spot the rest. It’s for charity, right?”

Wow. Just wow. Skye has no idea what to think. “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

Tony pats her shoulder. “Good girl. Now get to it, I think it’s winding down.”

“I have $825, going once, twice-“

“$900!” Skye blurts out, her arm rocketing into the air. Both Jemma and Fitz nearly spit out their drinks, which would be hilarious in almost any other circumstance but dammit, she has an auction to win and a friend to save.

Onstage, Trip’s eyes go as wide as saucers and Darcy just barely restrains herself from pumping a fist in the air. Thank god for Tony Stark, honestly. She would have hated turning Trip over to that table of harpies and knowing Trip and his good nature, he would have borne it like a true saint.

Now the woman at the other table looks truly irritated, glaring over at Skye’s table while her friends titter around her. “$1000.”

Oh hell. She’s going to have to raise the stakes, isn’t she? Skye takes a deep breath, looks at Trip again, and cuts Darcy off before she can offer something more reasonable. “$1250!”

Well. She has the attention of pretty much everyone in Sotheby’s now. Behind her, Alicia is laughing quietly, Fitz’s jaw is hanging wide open, and Jemma is bouncing in her seat. Onstage, the remaining Knights players are watching the proceedings with wide, shit-eating grins. Clint has his arms braced on his legs while Pietro whispers something in his ear, and Maria looks oddly like Cheshire cat. Clearly this is the best entertainment they’d seen in a while, even if it’s nothing compared to Steve’s whopping $4500.

“$1250! Can I get $1350, perhaps?” Darcy asks expectantly. The other woman huffs, tosses Skye the dirtiest glare she’s seen since elementary school, and shakes her head emphatically. “Then the date with Antoine Triplett is sold, for $1250!”

Skye scans the crowd for Tony, trying to make sure that this is okay. Sure, he’ll end up paying only $800 which is probably chump change for him, but she has to be sure. The billionaire is standing with Pepper at the bar, and the two of them raise their glasses (Tony’s is whisky, of course, while Pepper’s is red wine) when they catch her looking. Then and only then does she allow herself to face forward, where Trip and Darcy are beaming at her and…oh right, now he’s going to sit with them, ostensibly to “get to know” her before their “date.”

“Thanks for bailing me out there, it was looking pretty hairy,” he jokes, taking Fitz’s seat as the other man scoots over.

“I can’t take all the credit, it was definitely a team effort.” She nods towards Pepper and Tony because you have to give credit where credit is due. Trip waves, but quickly turns back to her, his smile sobering.

“I mean it though, Skye. I understood even when you were dropping out.” He rubs the back of his neck, completely baffled. She passes over her glass of champagne, which he takes gratefully. “I definitely was not expecting my bidding to go that high.”

She snickers. “Aw come on bud, you have to have more confidence than that! You’re Antoine Triplett, aren’t you?”

“Always bringing the noise and the funk,” he replies, the solemn façade cracking as they fist-bump.

Christine stops in front of them, tablet in hand. “I know I’m supposed to give the standard spiel about disclosure, liability, and all of that, but I’m pretty sure you’re aware of what you can and cannot do. Still, I’m going to need your signature here.”

Skye still scans the contract anyway before signing. “Yep, I’m pretty sure I know what I’m in for,” she remarks, handing it back.

And there it is again, that damnable, enigmatic smile – only it’s on Christine’s face this time. “I’m sure. And don’t forget, Darcy and the crew will be there with you.”

“We can pretend we’re filming an episode of _The Bachelor_ ,” Trip suggests gleefully.

She shudders, and any thoughts of Christine’s behavior disappear in her outrage. “Hell no, anything but that show. Come on, it’s so ridiculous!”

“Ridiculously fun to _watch_ ,” Trip shoots back, and then they’re off. Honestly, the man has atrocious taste in TV shows. She doesn’t care that he spends so much time traveling, that’s no excuse for bad TV.

The rest of the night wears on. Steve, as expected, remains the largest bid of the night. He’s so delightfully embarrassed by it, even though it’s repeated again and again that the money is going to charity. Maria’s date, a private cooking class at Eataly with Mario Batali himself, follows not far behind at $4250. All told, the Knights raise over $30,000 for their assorted charities, and Skye for one is pretty proud of be a part of it.

“So, when’s our photography date?” she asks Trip as they clear out for the night.

“Bye week is in two weeks, so we’ve scheduled most of the dates for either the beginning or end of that week, to allow for some vacation time,” he replies. “Mine’s at the beginning of the week.”

“Heading to Boston after that?” she asks. She knows how important his family is to him, and that they always have a box at TD Garden when the Knights are playing in Boston.

“Yeah, we try to get together as much as we can, and we get more time off for bye week than we do for Christmas.”

“Do you have any fun plans with them?” It comes out a little more wistful than she’d like and she winces a little bit.

She’s always felt a little bit on the outside looking in, when it comes to families. Growing up in a Catholic orphanage will do that to a person, even more so when her computer skills sent her to college earlier than anyone else in her peer group. Her classmates at university saw her as a little kid, and probably rightfully so because she was, but it stung because for once she was amongst people who thought the same way she did and still she had no friends.

It wasn’t until she was hired at Stark Hockey that she found people that thought the same way she did as well as people she actually gelled with. Tony is more like an annoying older brother than a boss, someone who is apt to stroll into the offices in ratty jeans and a concert t-shirt bearing fancy coffee and donuts. When they’re talking product development, it’s more of a brainstorming session, or a coding session that can go on for hours rather than a typical boss and subordinate relationship.

Jemma and Fitz are like her soulmates, equally nerdy and awkward, though perhaps in different ways. She’s never hit it off with anyone as quickly as she did with them. She and Jemma were even roommates for a while before she and Fitz finally got their will they or won’t they thing together.

Then there’s Jane. Jane is so unbelievably brilliant and goes toe to toe with Tony all the time, often coming out on top. She’s such a good collaborator because she trusts Skye’s abilities implicitly, allowing the two of them to work together seamlessly when it comes to developing, testing, and ultimately trying out any of the new Stark Hockey training tech.

They’re family in their own quirky way, her Stark Hockey friends, but it’s still not quite a _family_ in the traditional sense. Tony’s parents are dead, of course, and he and Pepper don’t seem in any hurry to start a family of their own. Hell, they may not even be inclined to do so. Fitz and Jemma’s families are in the UK and rarely come to visit, and given their courtship with Mac there probably won’t be a traditional family appearing there anytime soon, either.

Jane and Thor are the most likely candidates for starting a family of their own and Skye personally can’t wait to be the cool aunt in that situation.

Still, sometimes she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be folded into the kind of familial chaos that Trip talks about all the time. Not only is his nuclear family huge: multiple aunts, uncles, and cousins, but his extended family is apparently just as close, made up of the families of his grandfather’s teammates and colleagues, including the Carters.

“The usual family dinners, maybe a barbecue or two if someone’s feeling brave enough to fire the grill outside. Play with my nieces and nephews, of course.”

“Sounds nice.” That _definitely_ came out a little wistful.

Trip glances over at her. “Hey, you’re always welcome to come by if you want. The more the merrier, where my family’s concerned. I’ve had friends and teammates come by all the time, even dragged Maria on a family cruise one summer.”

“Nah, I couldn’t intrude like that.” They weren’t those kinds of friends, not yet at any least. It’s touching that he offered, though: just goes to show how big a heart Trip has.

He just grins a little enigmatically. “Invitation’s always open.”

* * *

 

The day of their photography date dawns cold and somewhat dreary, with rain coming down in a gentle drizzle. Skye makes sure to layer everything up so that she doesn’t get too cold, but the light rain should be nice for photography, right? It’ll make everything look nice and shiny or something. Whatever, the creative arts have never been her strong suit, but she’s always appreciated art. Some of her best times in the orphanage were when they were able to see concerts in Central Park or go to museums on the free entry days.

The KTV crew makes an exception for her and actually picks her up, rather than having her meet them at the starting location like the other date winners. Skye makes sure to pop into her local coffee shop and is waiting with a tray of hot drinks.

“You are the _best_ ,” Darcy declares fervently, reaching for a mocha. Peter, Ian, and Miles she was less sure about and got lattes, leaving Trip with the London Fog.

“How did you know?” he asks, his face lighting up.

Skye rolls her eyes. “We’ve had coffee before, you know. I know all about your obsession with tea, and your tea dates with Natasha.” One of his adopted grandfathers, Montgomery Falsworth, was the first British national to play in the NHL and played with Trip’s grandfather for the Bruins. Their group of friends, known collectively as the Howling Commandos, led the Bruins to three Stanley Cup wins in the 60s and 70s.

“I’ll have you know that tea is way better than coffee.”

Darcy pulls a face. But then, Darcy would mainline coffee if she could. “Yeah, you keep thinking that, my friend.”

“So, where are we heading?” Skye asks, bouncing up and down in her seat.

“I was thinking that we could start at Brooklyn Bridge, and make our way along the water. We can do basic landscape shots, some still life style things of park benches, and depending on how far along you get, play with exposure a little bit to get some really nice shots.”

The waterfront is one of her favorite places – she often jogs there a few times a week even thought she loathes running with the fire of a thousand suns. “That’s a great idea, let’s do it!”

They pile out by Brooklyn Bridge. Ian, Miles, and Peter are a well-oiled machine, setting themselves up in no time for Darcy to make a quick introduction. “This is Darcy Lewis with KTV, here to show off yet another one of the Knights’ charity auction dates. Today’s event is a photography session courtesy of Antoine Triplett. Let’s put his skills to the test, shall we?”

“How often do you come up with those blurbs off the top of your head?” Skye asks, admiring.

Darcy just shrugs. “Eh, I’ve been doing this long enough now that I can rattle off something pretty appropriate most of the time. If it’s really important, Peter will tell me ahead of time and give me something to work with.”

“Or I just let her come up with it herself,” Peter adds. “She’s better at coming up with things that sound like something she’ll say, rather than something I would say.”

“Cool. What do you need us to do?”

“Just go ahead with your photography session. Darcy and I will think of voiceovers to do later, so that we don’t have to stop you. Just pretend we’re not here.”

Trip starts by showing her camera features. It’s actually a little intimidating when he brings the cameras out, because she can tell that they’re _nice._ “Are these yours?” She holds it gingerly in her hands, grateful for the strap that keeps it somewhat secure around her neck.

“Yeah, they’re both mine. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Easier said than done. Skye’s good with tech stuff, it’s part of the job description. Both cameras are definitely expensive but more than that, _loved_ and she doesn’t want to screw up. “What got you into photography in the first place?”

“That’s all Gramps – Gabe Jones.” His smile turns faraway and fond as he thinks of his grandfather. “He wanted something else to do other than hockey, and he’s always been a really smart, artsy kind of guy. He majored in French at Howard.”

That’s something she didn’t know, and doesn’t seem like something a hockey player would do. “How did he get into hockey, then?”

“Just playing it on the streets with friends. He liked it more than basketball, which was almost unthinkable at the time. But he took French and when he really started getting into hockey, playing in the minors, he thought that he really needed something to round himself out.” There was that smile again and for her, it was just so hard to imagine having that kind of affection for a family member. “He wanted something to turn to once he was finished with hockey, something that appealed to his mind and his spirit.”

Gabe Jones definitely doesn’t fit the hockey mold she knows, even working with players as exceptional and wonderful as the ones on the Knights. They walk through focusing and framing basic shots before she decides to spiral back to that topic. “Don’t get me wrong, you and the rest of the Knights are pretty awesome, but your grandpa sounds like something else entirely.”

“Oh, he is. Gabe Jones is one of a kind. He started off pretty basic, but it wasn’t long until he built his own darkroom into the garage and started buying up more cameras. He has some pretty fancy DSLRs now because he’s a geek about technology like that, but he’s still pretty loyal to film.” Trip leans over, checking her first few shots of the Brooklyn Bridge. “Hey, those are some pretty nice shots!”

She looks at the screen doubtfully. It just looks like a picture to her, nothing like those photos that have an indefinable something that just takes your breath away when you look at them. But then, that’s probably something that people work up to, and doesn’t just happen the first few times. Hacking into her school’s computer and giving herself straight As in middle school isn’t something that can be applied to all other life skills. Sadly. “You’re just being nice. I don’t think I really have a hand of this whole framing thing…”

“Here, let’s try this.” Trip lets go of his camera, letting it dangle around his neck, and steps closer. “Um. Is it okay if I-?” He mimes putting his arms around her, a little awkward.

“Sure, why not?” Skye holds up the camera again, and tries not to startle when Trip’s hands settle gently on top of hers, positioning the camera. His body is warm all around her, a welcome respite to the rain that continues to drizzle down around them. She takes a breath, and the scent of his cologne surrounds her as well. It’s not overpowering at all, not like her last date where it felt like the dude bathed in the stuff. The scent is crisp and fresh but still earthy, as simple and attractive as a guy wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans.

Okay, whoa. She shakes her head a little, wondering where that came from. There is really something about a guy and a good cologne that really gets her, an instant knee jerk reaction that signifies instant attraction on her part. No joke, she got her first college boyfriend because she leaned over and sniffed him while they were in line for coffee and said, “I like your cologne. Wanna date?”

This is _Trip_. He’s one of her good friends here, and she’s not going to let his cologne mess that up. Yes, of course, he’s insanely attractive – she has _eyes,_ okay? And it’s not just because he’s a hockey player though that ass is definitely something to write home about. No, it’s just his genuine good humor, those twinkly eyes, and that infectious smile-

_Get yourself together, Skye!_

Meanwhile, Trip rambles on about framing and the Rule of Three, completely oblivious to her internal freak out.

Darcy and the guys, on the other hand, have a front row seat. “What’s the status of the bet on those two?” Miles asks Darcy in an undertone, biting his cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

“Maria has money on Trip actually making a move today. Lance thinks he’ll chicken out about it, but call her tomorrow saying something about it being fun and they should do it again.”

“Ah, sneakily asking her out on another date, got it. Total Hunter style.” He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. “I don’t know, by the looks of things he might not have to do anything. Maybe Skye’s the one who’s finally starting to get a clue.”

Darcy pokes his side. “About her own feelings, probably. Poor Skye, she still has absolutely no idea that Trip thinks the sun shines out of her ass.” Behind the camera, Ian chokes. Miles has to turn away to stop his giggles, and Peter glances up from the sound to give them all crazy eyes.

“Knock it off, guys,” he mouths, drawing a finger across his throat. Darcy makes a rude gesture in return, then sticks her hands behind her back and smiles guiltily as a nanny walks by with a stroller.

“So what,” Miles whispers to her, once he’s gotten himself under control. “You think Skye’s going to turn around and ask him out?”

“Well, she’s definitely just had her, ‘oh no, he’s hot,’ moment. Who knows if she’ll actually act on it. It’s probably up to Trip, actually.” If he makes more of his interest known (though she really doesn’t know how, homeboy has had his flirting level turned up to 200% from the moment he laid eyes on Skye), then that will probably give Skye the courage to make a move. Or who knows, maybe Maria’s right and Trip will finally woman up and actually use _words_ to say how he feels, rather than just make googly eyes at her.

And yes, Darcy is very much aware that she is a hypocrite. She hadn’t even bothered to bid on Clint’s date. Yes, she’s going to be there anyway but the date he chose was skydiving and she’s not throwing herself out of a plane with him, hell no. Ian and Peter are going to do that part, strapping GoPros on themselves, Clint, and the father of two whose family won the bid. She much prefers her feet planted on the ground, thank you very much.

Not that she would have done anything to move their relationship forward even if she had won. It’s just one of those things.

“So, your grandpa taught you all of this?” Skye asks, having gotten over her little Moment. Her next few shots actually aren’t that bad, which is amazing considering how little attention she paid due to his cologne clouding her brain.

Trip hums under his breath, snapping a few shots once he finds the spot he likes. “Yeah, he gave me one of those Instax cameras when I was probably five years old and started teaching me from there. He teaches amateur photography lessons at one of the local community colleges. They love being able to say that Gabe Jones – yes, _that_ Gabe Jones – is one of their instructors. The Bruins like getting him in to take pictures for events too.”

“I mean, why not?” she reasons. “So, I know why your grandpa took it up and that he started teaching you, but why do _you_ like it?”

Peter, sensing an excellent filming opportunity, waves Ian in closer.

Trip pauses, and lets his camera hang once more. “Gramps has the right idea, you know? It’s important to be a well rounded person. There are so many things out there that you can do to satisfy a creative need. You can garden, like Steve, or cook, like Sam. But this? I guess I like the idea of catching moments.”

Skye tilts her head to the side, inching a little closer as a gust of wind buffets them. “Moments?”

“It’s kind of cheesy but life is full of them, you know? And they never last very long. The thing that’s cool about photography is that it captures that moment and _exactly_ that moment, nothing else. Like this.” He gestures out at the New York skyline stretched in front of them. “This exact moment will never happen again – this weather, this light, this combination of boats. It’s cool to take it and preserve it.”

She nods, understanding. “Like those photos of you guys winning the Cup. I’ve never seen that amount of sheer joy on someone’s face before.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, relieved that she gets it. “Even when we win it again, the feeling is never going to be the same. It’s so hard to explain how all of us felt in that moment – we’d been working for so long and so hard on that goal that to finally have it in our hands was just unbelievable. When we win again, it will be a different kind of emotion, perhaps that we’ve beat an entirely different set of odds and made it to a place that only so few people get to.” He glances down at her. “Have you ever had a similar feeling?”

Skye purses her lips and wracks her brain. Those kind of moments were few and far between as a kid, but she’s trying to make up for that now as an adult. “You know, there is actually one picture,” she says slowly. “It’s one of the only ones of me as a kid. The orphanage got a donation of computers from some company that was upgrading theirs. It was the first time I’d ever touched a computer.”

Somehow, one of the sisters had managed to capture her absolute awe as her fingers touched the keys the first time, and saw how the machine responded to her. It was probably the first time she’d spoken and been able to be understood. The computer got her, and once she learned to speak its language, there was nothing she couldn’t do. “That day changed my life.”

“I’d like to see that photo.” When Skye tips her head back to look at him, there’s something about the way he’s looking at her that makes her feel like someone’s just reached inside her chest and squeezed her heart. She takes a deep breath, because for some reason she’s stopped.

“I wish I’d known you back then,” she blurts out. How different would her life have been, if she’d had a friend like him when she was younger? Someone who simply accepted her as she was and treated her like she was someone worth knowing. It probably wouldn’t have changed her path because computers are a part of her life that she refuses to give up, but things would have been a little less lonely, that’s for sure.

Trip reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, the look in his eyes so impossibly soft. “Can’t change the past,” he says slowly, his eyes dark and full of something she can’t name. “But I’m sure glad I know you now, Skye Johnson.”

Behind them, Darcy elbows Miles hard in the solar plexus. He hisses under his breath, rubbing the spot ruefully. “What the hell, Darcy?”

“There is no way you guys are putting that in the final edit. That’s too personal. Hell, _we_ shouldn’t have heard that.” Peter looks as embarrassed as she feels, and Ian has a wide, goofy grin on his face. The man is a sucker for a good love story.

He scoffs. “What do you take me for, an idiot? Even if we did leave it in, it’s not worth Christine’s wrath. I like all my limbs where they are, thank you very much.”

“Just so that we’re clear.” With that out of the way, Darcy allows herself a little sigh and flutter. She might wish herself somewhere else, anywhere else so that Trip and Skye can have their privacy, but there’s something about watching the two of them finally, finally taking those final steps towards each other – even if Trip has been walking her way for a very, very long time now – that is so very compelling. And adorable. It’s like watching a chick flick in real life.

She pulls her phone out and texts Sharon: _it is on like donkey kong._

_Omg what is happening tell me everything is he acting like a complete idiot?_

_Nah he’s being the perfect gentleman as usual. Skye just finally seems to be catching on_

_It’s about time. His pining is ridiculous. Don’t get me wrong, I love a slow burn more than anything, but at times I just want to shake him and scream MAKE A GODDAMN MOVE._

_Just be glad you never had to see the worst of Steve’s pining for Maria, it was way worse._

Sharon sends a laughing emoji. _Keep me updated, especially if anything big happens. I’ll hear it all from him later anyway, but I appreciate the real time updates._

_Anytime._

They move farther down the path, calling it a day after another hour of picture taking. Darcy and the rest of the KTV beg off, but Skye doesn’t feel ready for the day to end. “Wanna grab a coffee?” she ventures hopefully. “We can look over our photos and stuff.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The place they end up is suitably hipster-y, all exposed brickwork and tin ceilings, slate plates and latte bowls. Even if someone recognizes Trip here, they’ll be too…well, _hipster-y_ to disturb them.

Trip goes up to order after a brief scuffle (“Look, if we stay here long enough for another round you can take that one, all right?”), returning with a tray bearing a pot of oolong tea for her, a pot of English Breakfast for him, and a plate of _pain au chocolat._ “I thought you were a three shots of espresso kind of gal,” he teases, setting everything down and even pouring tea into a mug for her.

“That’s before a day’s worth of coding with Tony,” is the absent reply. That that kind of firepower is a necessity on days when they have those kind of sessions. She’s damn good at what she does, but she does need a bit more experience before she can function at his level. But then, she also has a tendency to care about food and general hygiene after a while, whereas Tony can be kind of oblivious. “Three or four hours in, it’s on to a three pump butterscotch macchiato.”

He winces at the mere mention of that amount of sugar. “That’s pretty intense.”

“Well, that’s working with Tony Stark.” Tea’s soothing, something she kind of needs right now because her nerves are still jangling from that photo session. She feels so weirdly _aware_ of Trip in a way she wasn’t before. It’s the same way she gets when she’s attracted to someone, but there’s none of the same wariness when she is dating someone because she _knows_ Trip. She’s friends with him.

Not that she really _dates_ guys. The orphanage and going to college young kind of messed with her self worth a little and she’s wary of anything beyond a couple of dates and a roll in the hay. Add to that a whole host of trust issues and…well.

But Trip? She knows him, trusts him, _likes_ him. He’s nothing like she expected a professional athlete to be, especially a hockey player. That applies to everyone on the Knights but he’s different. Still, different doesn’t mean she should actually do something about it, and she would never forgive herself if that crashed and burned just because she’s getting some weird twinges right now.

“Let’s see some of the candids you got, since those were the last things we shot,” he continues, oblivious to Skye’s internal breakdown. “Damn, this is really good pastry. Don’t rat me out to Carol, okay?”

Carol’s ability to inspire fear in the entire team over their diet and nutrition is pretty hilarious. Skye has seen her march off with Pietro’s stash of nougat and watched the boy crumble. “Your secret’s safe with me.” She slides her camera – well, his camera, really, across the table, biting down on her lower lip because suddenly she’s nervous. She wants him to think she did a good job, simply because photography is so important to him.

He scoots his chair over to her side of the table and hands his camera over. “Here, let’s look at them together.”

“How are all of your shots so nice and candid, and not giving off stalker vibes at all?” she complains, kicking lightly at his ankle as they go through a few. “Mine are like…private eye shots, the kind where the wife wants to know if her husband’s cheating on her or not.”

Trip chuckles. “It’s all in the framing. For the most part, you’ve put all your people right smack dab in the center, and zoomed in on them. That’s why it seems like that.” His phone vibrates on the table, startling them both. “That’s Gramps. He probably wants to know how it went.”

“By all means, you have to tell him.” She taps her camera. “Go on, I’ll just keep looking and comparing and trying to figure out how not to take such a horrible shot next time.” The words just fly out of her mouth and she cringes internally for a moment. Oh man. What if this was just a one off?

“Another photo session, then?” Trip seems genuinely pleased at the prospect. “Awesome. I’ll be right back. Hey Gramps, how are you?”

She watches him jog out of the café and onto the street, shaking her head for a moment. This guy though. He’s truly something.

It shows in the photos, she thinks, impulsively reaching over to flip through the rest of his. He clearly takes so much care, considering everything from framing to lighting to all those random little features he’d explained earlier that she’s promptly forgotten. Somehow, the personalities of the people he’s taken come right through. There are even a few of the KTV crew that she’s sure they didn’t realize were taken. There’s Ian, laughing as he looks through the viewfinder, Darcy about to dropkick Peter for some reason, and Miles looking off into the distance, posed like a model even though he’s definitely just standing there.

Skye flips to the next photo and her breath promptly sticks in her throat. It’s her, in a completely candid moment as well. The camera is down and she’s holding it lightly in one hand while the other is brushing stray hairs out of her face. Fairly ordinary, in the grand scheme of things, but…

There is something almost dreamy about the quality of the shot, the soft blurriness of the background paired with the focus on her. The composition of it is unbelievable, the framing and the lighting combining to make her seem glowing and perfect.

She tilts her head to the side. Huh. She looks almost…pretty.

“Gramps was asking if you had a good time and-“ Trip’s eyes are wide, almost comically so when she looks up at him. She feels a stab of guilt. She did just go ahead and grab his camera, even though they were looking at things together.

“Sorry.” She holds it up. “I was still comparing. This is a really great shot of me though? Like, damn, you really made me look good.”

“You always look good,” is the faint reply as he practically slides back into his seat. He looks jumpy and rattled, and she can practically hear one of the nuns scolding her about taking things that aren’t hers. Ugh, she’s a terrible friend.

So she shakes her finger at him, trying to lighten the mood. “Such pretty lies, my friend, but I’ll overlook it if you send me a copy so I can use it for my social media profiles.”

“Should that be my new calling, then? Taking peoples’ profile pictures?”

“I won’t say quit your day job, but hey, you’ll have something for when you retire, like your grandpa. That’s not such a bad thing, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head, the tightness around his eyes slowly receding. Thank goodness. The thought that she’s offended him in some way by snooping through his camera doesn’t sit well with her at all. “Not a bad thing at all. You wouldn’t believe how many hockey players flounder once they retire. They feel like their only options are still related to hockey, like becoming a commentator or coaching or getting involved in a former organization in some way, shape, or form.”

“You don’t want to do that?”

“Not really, I don’t think I’m coach or hockey ops material.” Trip shrugs, and reaches for the last pastry with a raised eyebrow. The last thing she needs right now is more sugar, so she lets him take it. “I’ve always wanted to be a hockey player, but that’s not all there is to life, you know? Especially since hockey careers don’t last as long as other things. I’m lucky that it’s going to give me the opportunity to see if there’s something else out there that I can love as much as I love hockey.”

She points to the cameras. “And this may or may not be it?”

“I have time to figure it out.” His fingers tap across the table, a little restless, a little distracting. He has nice hands, she thinks idly. He definitely knows what to do with them on the ice, and with a camera. It makes her wonder…

…and she’s definitely not going to go down that road. Seriously. She’s going to have a major talking to with her brain tonight after all this.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” she answers automatically, reaching for her cup of tea and making a tiny face when she realizes it’s gone cold. Her office mug says, “This Used To Be Warm,” because that’s what happens to coffee or tea when she and Tony go on their benders.

“Is there something you think you’d like as much as you like computers?”

She has to sit and think about that for a second, because the moment she realized how good she was at computers, it set the course for the rest of her life. And she doesn’t regret it, not at all. You’d have to pry Stark Hockey from her cold, dead hands. But another career? “Maybe something to do with kids, like a youth counseling. Letting others like me know that there’s actually someone out there that cares about them.”

Trip’s fingers twitch again, almost like he wants to reach out across the table for her hand. “You’d be good at that. Have you ever considered a mentorship program? You can still do almost the same thing, no school necessary.”

“Stark has a program, actually.” And while she hasn’t been able to set foot in the orphanage – the memories are still a little much for her – she’s gone to other youth shelters in the city from time to time, mostly on Thanksgiving or Christmas mornings. “I haven’t done much with it yet but it’s a good one. Jemma and Fitz really love it.”

Silence settles between them for a moment, nothing heavy or weighted or awkward. It’s just…really nice. Eventually, she gestures towards the cameras again. “Hey, let’s finish going through these while everything’s still fresh in my head.”

They end up staying at the coffee shop for another two hours, long enough for Skye to go and grab them another round of drinks. They only stop when her grumbling stomach interrupts Trip mid explanation.

“It’s getting pretty late,” he remarks, checking his watch.

It’s definitely dark, but Skye suddenly dreads the idea of trudging back to her empty apartment right now. Times like these she really misses having Jemma as a roommate, because while she likes her alone time, it’s so much better to have someone else around. Maybe that’s her experience from the orphanage talking, but too much alone time makes her twitchy. “Do you want to grab dinner?” she asks impulsively. “I…I’m having a really good time and it would be nice if…but I totally understand if you have somewhere to be, or if you’re sick of my sterling company.”

“Now why would I be sick of your company?” There’s something almost hopeful in the way he looks at her, like he’s been waiting for that invitation and huh. Maybe he’s feeling just as lonely as she is.

They shift venues to Skye’s favorite brewpub, just around the corner from her place. They talk about everything and nothing over pints of beer and, in Skye’s opinion, the best burgers and fries in the city.

He walks her back to her apartment afterwards, insisting on taking her all the way to her door. “What a gentleman,” she teases, leaning against her door and grinning cheekily up at him. “It’s almost like we’re on a date or something.”

Trip freezes for a moment – a small thing, and she probably wouldn’t have noticed it otherwise, but they’re standing so close because the hallways are pretty narrow (they made moving in a living hell, she never thought she would be grateful for the fact that IKEA does pretty much everything in flat pack). “Um. Nah, you know it’s just all part of the package.” The statement is weird, lacking his usual smoothness.

Skye cocks her head to the side for a moment, and goes over the day’s events. Technically, the photo session was a date, that was how the Knights’ marketed the auction, after all. Everything else – the coffee shop, and then dinner at the brewpub could technically be considered two friends just hanging out, but if she looked at those from the perspective of a date too…well, it was a pretty good date. Probably the best one she’d ever been on. “Trip, did you want it to be a date? Because we could pretend otherwise…” Even if there’s this weird sinking in her stomach when she puts it that way. Huh.

“No!” He looked like he’d much rather be facing down Thor and Mack’s slapshots than answering her question. Finally, he sighs, rubbing his chin. “I mean, we could pretend otherwise if you want, but there’s something I have to tell you first.”

“All right,” she responds, intrigued.

“I really wanted you to win at the charity auction.”

“I know?”

Trip laughs helplessly, shaking his head. “No, Skye. I really, really wanted you to win because I _did_ want it to be a date. Maybe a way of easing into things because I’ve wanted to ask you out for a very long time.”

“Define a long time,” she says slowly, wondering at the slowly dawning realization that she’s been terribly, horrifically blind.

Trip scrubs his hands over his face, moving around so that he’s leaning against the doorframe. “Since the first time I met you? I kind of noticed you and Jane around, but after I hit the puck at you – totally an accident, by the way – I don’t know how to describe it but everything was just a little brighter, like everything about you was _right_.”

Poet, she thinks a little dazedly. He should add poet to his list of future professions. His words make everything fall into place. Sharon’s weird comments, the way everyone was acting at the auction – hell, the way Mike _always_ acts whenever Trip’s in their general vicinity. Even Darcy and the others’ little looks make sense.

She’s not crazy. Trip _likes_ her.

The question is: does she like him in return?

The easy answer is that of course she does. In terms of pure aesthetics, he’s gorgeous. Every inch of him is densely packed muscle and she’s not immune to that. Better still is that sunshine smile and his eyes – she’s never forgotten her first impression of him, how all she could think about was how bright and kind his eyes were, how no one had ever looked at her in quite that way.

That should have been her first clue, but…she’s never thought about him that way, has never even _considered_ thinking about him that way because it just seems like an utter impossibility. He’s the handsome, successful hockey star and she’s the little orphan girl, no family and few friends _,_ spending most of her day with her nose buried in code.

“Hey.” Callused fingertips lightly brush her wrist before falling away, pulling her out of her daze. Trip is grinning ruefully down at her. “Skye, you know that I’d never ask for something you can’t or don’t want to give, right? Just say the word and we can forget it. The last thing I want to do is lose you as a friend.”

 Skye wasn’t paying attention before. But by god is she paying attention now, to the resignation around his eyes and the slight drooping of his shoulders, like he’s trying to fold that big frame in on itself.

He’s being so brave, offering everything up even with the chance that she might say no to it. And she’s scared too, scared of losing one of the best friends she’s ever had, but she’ll hate herself if she walks away from the possibility of what they can be because of that fear.

Because they can be _amazing_.

“Right,” Trip says, breaking into her thoughts once more and dammit Skye, she’s really going to have to do something about all that woolgathering because it’s really going to kick her in the ass someday. “I’ll just…I’ll go.”

“No, wait!” she blurts, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket as he turns away. “I’m sorry, it’s pretty damn clear that I’m very slow on the uptake sometimes, I was just processing things.” And oh, the look of hope and something else makes her a little weak in the knees and has she really been blind to all of this? No wonder everyone’s been acting strangely, they must be really exasperated. “Just…”

There’s one surefire way to see if this will work. She heaves a breath and moves before her nerves fail her, shifting her grip from his sleeve to his collar, tugging him down as she rises to her tiptoes.

It’s really nothing more than a press of their lips together. Their eyes remain open, both of them a little taken aback by her audacity.

She settled back on her heels, her breath escaping in a slight woosh. She doesn’t let go of his collar because, well. She really doesn’t want to.

“What was that?” he asks, a little hushed in the silence of her hallway, like the moment deserves to remain undisturbed.

“Uh.” He looks like he’s trying not to smile, and the twinkle is back in his eyes. It’s really, really distracting. “I wanted to see if we had chemistry. In that way. Just to see, you know.”

“Uh-huh. And what’s the verdict?”

Okay, she’s a big fan of that look, darkly amused and full of heat as he looks at her slowly, oh so slowly, his gaze like a full body caress that makes her every hair stand on end. “I need more data,” is what she ends up saying because she spends entirely too much time with Jane but who cares because it’s the best excuse in the world.

Trip certainly doesn’t seem to care, sweeping her up in his arms. This time, he’s right there with her, tilting his head and all but breathing her in as he takes the kiss deeper this time, tipping them both slowly over the edge. He’s warm, so warm against her that all she wants to do is burrow beneath his jacket and melt against him, against all that lovely heat and strength.

When the haze finally clears, she’s pressed back against her apartment door, his bulk pressing into her insistently, deliciously. But the kisses he places over the line of her cheekbones are light, almost reverent. “So, what’s the verdict?” His voice is low, rich and golden like honey.

“I-“ It comes out high and squeaky and she has to clear her throat. “I definitely need more data. Like a few more dates, at the very least.”

“I see,” Trip drawls, drawing back just the slightest bit. “So today was a date?”

“Maybe it didn’t start out that way for me, but…I didn’t really want it to end,” she confesses.

He just smiles again, melting her insides. “I’d hoped. I’d really hoped.”

“Next time, just tell me? Sometimes I need things spelled out.”

“Duly noted,” he laughs, and kisses her again.

**Author's Note:**

> For Trish, because she headcanoned this with me back when this series was just getting on its feet. Also because it feels like there are so few people who love this ship, therefore we shall get this tiny boat rowing, together!
> 
> Maria does win the bet, by the way. I also have no idea how auctions and photography actually work, so any errors there are on me.
> 
> As always, I'm available to scream about this universe and anything else you fancy on [tumblr](http://somanyfandomssolittletime.tumblr.com).


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